


The Cooper-Fowler Chronicles

by xmarisolx



Series: Marisol's Shamy 'Verse [7]
Category: The Big Bang Theory (TV)
Genre: F/M, Farting, Gen, Kid Fic, the birds and the bees
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-19
Updated: 2013-08-12
Packaged: 2017-12-05 20:15:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/727487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xmarisolx/pseuds/xmarisolx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aditi and Robert's secret mission is nearly derailed before it begins. Will their quick wits and spy gear be enough to avert disaster?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Ad-Hoc Convergence

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is the latest work in a series, and heavily features original characters. Persons interested in this story are _highly_ encouraged to read _The Gamete_ _Indeterminacy_ and _The Connubial Catalyst_ prior to reading this fic.  
>  **Disclaimer:** _The Big Bang Theory_ is an American sitcom created by Chuck Lorre and Bill Prady, and is produced by them along with Steve Molaro. It is a Warner Brothers production and airs on CBS. All characters, plots and creative elements derived from the source material belong exclusively to their respective owners. I, the author of the fan fiction, do not, in any way, profit monetarily from the story.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aditi and Robert’s secret mission is nearly derailed before it begins. Will their quick wits and spy gear be enough to avert disaster?

Dust bunnies aside, hiding under the bed really wasn't all that bad.

Aditi lay flat on her stomach, the crown of her head grazing the netted fabric on the bottom of the mattress, and her chin resting on her folded arms before her. She pushed her disheveled brown hair and overgrown bangs from her face with the heel of her hand. In the wee hours of the morning, everything was dark, and the only light in the room came from her Winnie-the-Pooh nightlight that glowed dully through the cotton fabric of the bed skirt. Forgotten treasures were scattered all around her: stray hair barrettes, a penny loafer that didn't fit her anymore, and half of an oatmeal cookie that she'd snuck into bed one night after dinner. Aditi remembered being afraid of the abyss beneath her bed and the floor back when she was a little girl; now, however, at ten years old, she was much too big to believe in monsters, goblins and boogey men.

She reached down into the pocket of her pajamas and pulled out an old mobile phone that Amy had given her to play with. The wireless service on the device was disconnected, but Aditi liked to carry it around anyway. It had games on it and she could use it to send secret messages to Robert. In fact, it was the very method they had used to plan the night's top-secret meeting. She swept her finger across the face of the phone, unlocking it, and noted the time. It was 4:06 AM, which meant Robert was late. Aditi's shoulders sunk as she stared grimly at the screen: he had promised her he would set the vibrate alarm on his own discarded phone (given to him by Uncle Leonard) and stick it under his pillow so he'd wake up on time. Plus, Aditi knew for a fact that his bedroom was only a two-second walk from hers. She could make the trip from her door to his door in only four giant steps. She could make the trip to the hallway bathroom in _ten_ giant steps (and 13 bunny hops), and Mom and Daddy's room was only seven giant steps away. She knew because she had counted one day when she was bored because Robert wouldn't play with her because he was mad that she'd told Adam that he'd cried when Amy pulled his last baby tooth.

Aditi tucked the phone back in her pocket with a humph. Robert was always bragging about how he had been able to tell time ever since he was two years old, but it was really nothing to brag about if he was still going to be late for a meeting as important as this one. She drummed the fingers of her right hand against the floor and leaned the side of her face into her balled up fist with a frown (pushing one eye shut). After a while, she turned onto her back, and then idly started picking balls of lint out of the mattress fabric. She thought about what it would be like if—instead of being born into a human family—she had been born into a family of lint. She imagined that her aunts and uncles would be dust mites and her cousins would be cobwebs. Sure, it might be fun to get to travel by static electricity. Ultimately, however, she thought she might end up in somebody's belly button, which would be icky and dark. She was suddenly very glad that she was a little girl and not a lint ball. When that distraction was exhausted, she checked the phone again; it was 4:13 and, just as she was about to send Robert a message inquiring as to his whereabouts, she spotted three sharp flashes of light through the veil of the bed skirt. She stuck her neck out just beyond the foot of the bed. Again, a series of three pulsing lights shined through the crack in the bottom of her bedroom door, summoning her from her hiding place.

IT WAS ROBERT!

She hurriedly slid out from underneath the bed—the knees of her pajamas gritty with dust—and crawled to her bedroom door. Stretching her arm up as high as it would go, she turn the doorknob and pulled it open. Robert (also on all fours) scurried inside bearing a black, metal flashlight.

"What took you so long?" Aditi asked in a raspy whisper as he went by.

"I don't know what you mean," he replied in kind, his voice barely audible over the sound of cardboard scraping against the wood floor. "I came when I was supposed to."

"Uh uh," she disagreed. "You agreed to come at 4:00. It's already 4:13!"

"Actually," he countered, "I agreed to _wake up_ at four. However, after stretching my muscles and putting on my slippers, I had to gather my secret meeting kit."

The idea of a "secret meeting kit" piqued Aditi's attention. Robert pointed his flashlight at the small box he'd brought along with him, and her eyes lit up with glee. The tattered container was a treasure trove of doodads and gizmos perfect for a mission of this sort; it contained a gyroscope, binoculars, a black light, a motion alarm and a dart launcher, among other knickknacks. Aditi, however, was taken with the fingerprint duster kit, and reached in to take a closer look.

"No, DeeDee!" Robert said, much too loudly and his hand balled into fists.

"Shhh," Aditi shot back, also much too loudly. "You'll wake up Mom and Dad."

"Then don't touch my stuff," Robert said.

"How are we going to make this mission successful if we don't share our resources?" Aditi asked, clearly pleased with herself at formulating this unimpeachable line of reasoning.

"You could have at least asked first," Robert said, and if it weren't so dark, she would have seen the pout on his face.

"Then, can I see the fingerprint dusting kit, _please_?" she asked.

"No," he said, taking it from her, and he stuffed it back into the box.

"Why not?" she asked.

"Because we don't need it yet."

Just then, both children froze. They could hear the distinct sound of their parents' bedroom door opening. It was followed by the sound of footsteps that approached, and then passed, Aditi's door. By the thudding gait of the nighttime walker, it was clearly their father.

"Honestly, Amy," he muttered to himself as he went by, his voice strained and perturbed, "After a late dinner—hastily eaten and high in fiber, cheese and acidic sauces—some flatulence is to be expected."

Both children then heard the hallway bathroom door open and shut, followed by several loud, gaseous noises that could only be taken for the aforementioned gastric distress. Aditi bit her bottom lip and covered her mouth, just barely suppressing her explosion of giggles. Robert gave her a pointed look that she could barely see in the dark, silently admonishing her to get a hold of herself. The initial gassy interlude was followed by a high-pitched, melodic toot, and Robert found himself trembling as well, trying to stifle his own laughter. A moment passed and both children, through great effort, finally calmed down and swallowed their amusement. All was silent and then, as if from a tuba, one final blast rang out from the bathroom and both children collapsed into audible giggles. Aditi threw her head back, making throaty sniggering sounds. They could hear the bathroom door open and, in short order, the sound of Sheldon making his way back to his bedroom. Desperate (and only marginally able to rein in his own mirth), Robert grabbed his sister's wrist with one hand and pulled her towards the bed, under which both children crawled to hide. Just as Robert's body slipped under the bed skirt, he stuck out his other hand to grab the cardboard box bearing his equipment and pulled it towards him. It made a loud clanging sound along with a swoosh, the rattle of the box's contents combining with the sound of the box sliding against the floor. The sound of Sheldon's steps slowed before finally stopping just outside Aditi's door. At close range, shoulder to shoulder, the twins could see each other's faces more clearly, and they exchanged looks of terror mixed with accusation. Both children went perfectly still. Sheldon's steps resumed, and disaster was averted when there was the large clang of something metal settling in the box. A second later, Aditi's bedroom door flew open and the light came on.

"Aditi?" came Sheldon's voice, tinged with panic when he undoubtedly saw his daughter's bed was empty. Realizing their plan was in serious peril, Robert signaled for his sister to reveal herself. After a moment of apprehension, she stuck her head out from under the bed, the bed skirt falling around her head like a bonnet.

"Hi, Daddy," she said, her voice as chipper and bright as she could muster.

"Why are you under the bed?" he asked, sincerely baffled.

"Because," she said, and Robert bit his bottom lip with one eye closed and his face scrunched into a panic. Aditi was _terrible_ in a crisis, and he'd been unable to feed her a suitable story. There was no telling what she might say. He felt her reach behind them and he followed her hand with his eyes from his hiding place.

"I dropped my cookie," she said, producing the withered and stale specimen from weeks gone by.

Sheldon took a step forward and then stooped down, taking the crumbling snack from her hand. "This is filthy Aditi," he said, truly appalled. "You are _much_ too old to be eating things from the floor, much less sneaking food to bed." He shook his head. "I swear, young lady, it's as if you are deliberately trying to decimate the functioning of your immune system. Do you want to have to go and get shot like you did last time?"

Aditi recalled the event with a shrug. "It didn't really hurt that badly."

"Maybe not for you," Sheldon said shrilly, "but I fainted, hitting my head on the instrument cart. Would you want to have me suffer that way again?"

She shook her head with wide, sad eyes. She looked at the cookie and then back at Sheldon. "I'm sorry, Daddy," she said.

As was his custom, he relented immediately, powerless before her cherubic eyes. "Worry not. Just… just get into bed."

"Okay," she said, nodding. As Robert fought to hide himself, Aditi pulled herself forward, scrambling to stand, but Sheldon lifted her from the floor and placed her into the bed. Pulling her bed sheets around her, he tucked her in.

"Don't tell Mommy, okay?" Aditi asked.

"Not this time," Sheldon said, which is what he said every time.

"Good night, Daddy."

"Good night," he said, and tenderly brushed her bangs from her face. Then he walked over to the door, turned out the lights, and left, shutting the door behind him.

As soon as the door to his bedroom shut, Robert hopped from his hiding place, joining his sister on the bed. Aditi popped up as well, sitting on top of her sheets.

"That was a close," she whispered, smiling brightly, and maybe a bit proud of herself.

Robert brought a finger to his closed mouth, demanding silence from his sister. Then, reaching into his box that had arguably created the near-debacle, he pulled out a sketchpad and marker. Turning the cover page under, he scribbled hurriedly on the first sheet, illuminating his writing with his flashlight. Aditi squinted at his message.

"It's invisible ink," it read. Within seconds, the writing disappeared. He scribbled again. "This is the way we have to talk from now on," he wrote. "Leaving our communication untraceable."

A smile of pure delight flashed across Aditi's face. She snatched the marker from her brother's hand excitedly.

"This is so cool," she wrote.

He snatched the marker back. "I know." Then he pulled another marker from his box, handing it to his sister.

She uncapped it and then began to write a message of her own. "So what should we call this club?" she asked, each syllable fading only moments after it hit the paper. "I think it should be called the Lady and the Tramp Club."

"Why?" Robert wrote. "You're not a lady, and I'm not a tramp."

Aditi covered her mouth, trying not to laugh. "Because I saw Mommy and Daddy eating spaghetti with pieces of hot dog cut up in it, and then they started kissing when they didn't know I was there."

Robert considered the idea then conceded with a shrug. "Fine," he said. "But I'm not going to sing anything."

Aditi had a question. "How far away is it, again?"

"Exactly 146 days," Robert wrote. "So, we have to start planning now!"

Aditi nodded. When he used a lot of exclamation marks, he meant business. "Alright," she wrote, and lowered herself to the bed on her stomach, kicking her skinny legs in the air. "Let's invite Aunt Penny and Uncle Leonard."

"And Uncle Howard and Aunt Bernie."

Aditi's jaw dropped and her eyes grew wide. "LET'S GET A CAKE :)"

Robert sighed, short on patience. "Of course we will," he wrote. "Put on your thinking cap, DeeDee. We only have 28 meetings left and we don't want to waste any time on the obvious."

Aditi nodded with a smile she couldn't contain.

This was going to be the _best_ surprise anniversary party ever.


	2. The Grilled Cheese Sandwich Extrapolation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aditi’s aspirations for a grilled cheese sandwich lead to a discussion on the birds on the bees.

Most Saturdays, the Fowler-Cooper household began the day with a hearty breakfast before embarking on a rapid succession of relentless and challenging activities with the gusto of a stuntman that’s been fired from a canon and sent flying through as a series of flaming hoops.  Visits to museums, nature walks, trips to antique bookstores, Disneyland excursions, appearances at cutting edge tech shows and regular expeditions to a local alpaca farm were all part of  Amy and Sheldon’s effort to expose their young brood to as many enriching opportunities as they could possibly stand.

Some Saturdays, however, they just slept all day.

Aditi, an early riser (and a child chronically afflicted with both hunger and boredom) awoke one Saturday to fix herself a bowl of cereal and watch cartoons.  However, after scooping the last bit of milk and flakes from her bowl, she found herself sleepy once again and, after lethargically dropping her dish and spoon into the sink, she climbed the stairs, returned to her room and jumped back into the welcoming comfort of her bed.

She arose once more, already hungry, a few short hours later.  Again, she made the trip downstairs to the kitchen, prowling about for something to eat.  Amy had been very clear on what food the twins were allowed to prepare by themselves and without supervision: cereal, cold sandwiches, microwave popcorn and whatever snacks were in the left bottom drawer of the refrigerator.  Aditi had already eaten cereal, she didn’t want a bologna sandwich or popcorn, and the “snacks” in the fridge were celery, carrots, broccoli and other veggies.  She didn’t want that either.  What she wanted was a grilled cheese sandwich with tomato soup.

She didn’t know how to make either one.

Dismayed, she flew up the stairs to Robert’s room, grabbed the doorknob, and prepared to go in only to discover that the door was locked.  It was then that she remembered. 

A few weeks prior (after Robert watched an enlightening episode of his favorite web show, “The Carrot Robots Have Landed”), he decided that he no longer wanted anyone coming into his bedroom without knocking, and alerted the family to his new decree.  Unfortunately for Robert, his complaints fell on deaf ears.  So, taking matters into his own hands, he’d disconnected the iris recognition camera off of an old work laptop that Sheldon had long abandoned, and somehow rigged it to the lock on his bedroom door.  Naturally, Aditi had been the first one to be rebuffed by the enhanced security measure, and the fallout of the discovery (lots of yelling that degenerated into crying) drew the attention of their father.  Any concern Sheldon felt about being locked out of his child’s room without a way in—even in an emergency—was eclipsed by the fascination and extreme pride he felt in his son’s ability to finagle such a device.  Amy, however, did not share his amusement, and immediately sentenced Robert to being grounded for a month with none of his electronic devices.  The following morning, however (after a bit of pillow talk and an agreement that her and Sheldon’s irises be added to Robert’s security database), his sentence was reduced to 10 days.  As a further concession, they all agreed that they would indeed knock on his door before entering.  However, after Robert had to get up 32 times _in one day_ to let Aditi in, he soon added her iris to his database as well, and within hours she had abandoned knocking altogether.

She stood in front of his door, staring unblinkingly at the camera.  After a moment—and the whirring sound of a motor—the door came open.  In she went.

“Can you help me?” she said, standing next to where he sat on the bed.

“I’m busy DeeDee,” he said as he toggled his attention between his computer tablet and a notebook.

“Doing what?” Aditi asked.

“My homework.”

“No you’re not,” she said.  “You’re drawing.”

Robert sighed.  “I’m not drawing,” he said.  “I’m plotting vectors.”

“But I want a grilled cheese sandwich,” she explained, “and only you know how to make one.”

“Sorry.  I can’t.”

“Yes you can.”

“Well, _technically_ I can, but last time I did I lost my electronics privileges for a week.”

He lost his privileges a lot.

“But if you got permission you could,” Aditi said, and walked to the door.  “I’m going to go and ask.”

“Don’t, DeeDee,” Robert said, looking up from his work.  “You’re going to get us in trouble.”

“No I’m not,” she said, and left anyway, making the short trip to her parents’ bedroom.

She knocked once on their door and didn’t get an answer.  She knocked again, and got the same non-response.  After a third knock and no answer, she got suspicious.  There was only one logical explanation: they were ignoring her.  She knew for a fact that they were in there because she had heard them talking earlier before she went downstairs.  A wave of frustration came over her.  Why was everyone treating her mean today?  All she wanted was a grilled cheese sandwich, and she would have been more than happy to make it herself, but she didn’t know how.  Fuelled by frustration—and acting against her better judgment—she turned the knob on the door and barged right in.  Sheldon was lying down and Amy was sitting on top of him, her bare back to Aditi.

“Mommy and Dad—“ she began but was interrupted when both parents shouted at her at the top of their lungs.

“GET OUT, ADITI!”

Stunned by the outburst, she scrambled from the room, slamming the door behind her.  Her mother rarely yelled at her, and only then when she had done something really naughty; her father never did.  She wracked her brain trying to figure what she had done that was so bad, and why nobody wanted her around.  Stumbling forward, she lowered her hand into her hands.  A burning sensation swelled in her eyes and her nose, and soon tears seeped from her eyes.  She walked back to Robert’s room, wiped her tears so her eyes would be clear, waited for the door to open, and walked in.

Robert didn’t even look up from his “vectors.”

To get his attention, Aditi augmented her crying with audible sobs.  He looked up.

There was a trace of concern in his face and he stopped writing.  “Why are you crying, DeeDee?” he asked.

Her response was shrill and her bottom lip formed into a pout.  “Because Mommy and Daddy were mean to me!”

“I told you they wouldn’t let me make you a sandwich,” he said.

“I didn’t even get to ask them,” she said. “They just yelled, ‘GET OUT, ADITI!’ before I could even say anything.”

Having heard enough, Robert’s attention returned to his homework.  “Did you knock first?” he asked as he scribbled away.  It had become a pet cause of his.

“Yes!” Aditi answered defensively. “Three times!”

“And did they say you could come in?” he asked.

She turned her head down and spoke softly.  “No.” 

“Then, duh, that’s why they were mad then,” Robert said, and—having made a ruling—it was clear his interest in the incident was officially over.

Aditi, however, had her defense ready.  “They weren’t even _doing_ anything,” she protested.  “Daddy was just lying there and Mommy was sitting on his lap.”

This added piece of information renewed Robert’s interest in the case.  He looked up, one eye squinting with intrigue.  “Was Mom’s back to you?”

Aditi shrugged. “Yeah, I guess.”

“And were Dad’s feet red?”

“I dunno,” Aditi said, shrugging her shoulders.  “What’s that got to do with anything?”

“Because elevated body temperature is associated with copulation.”

“What’s copulation?” Aditi asked.

Robert exhaled loudly, feigning much more exasperation than he actually felt.  “Copulation is the act by which animals engage in sexual reproduction.  The male of the species uses a phallus to inject the female with spermatozoa through an orifice which in turn fertilizes the female’s viable ovum or ova.  In humans, copulation is called ‘coitus.’”

“What’s coitus?” Aditi asked.

Robert theatrically threw his head back, collapsing onto his pillow.  “Were you listening to a single word I said?”

“I don’t even know what you’re talking about,” Aditi said.

Brushing his notebook to the side, Robert leaned forward and got on all fours, crawling to the foot of his bed—slow and foreboding—like a wild cat approaching its prey.  His voice lowered to a deep growl.  Well, as low as it could for a ten year old.

“What I’m talking about, DeeDee,” he said, “is how babies are made.”

Among children of toy-bearing age, “how babies are made” was one of the great mysteries of the universe, and the promise of information of the topic fully arrested Aditi’s attention.  Robert didn’t miss his chance at having a captive audience.

“Listen closely,” he began. “I saw pictures of _everything_.  A ‘phallus’ is long, hard, and bendy.  An ‘orifice’ looks _exactly_ like two big lips.” He gave her a knowing look.  “Get it?” 

She returned an entirely blank stare, and was breathing deeply with keen anticipation. 

With a dramatic sigh, he covered his eyes with one hand as if he were talking to the dumbest person he’d ever encountered.  “Do I need to spell it out to you?!” he asked.  “Dad stuck his finger in Mom’s mouth and now she has a baby in her stomach.”

Aditi was sorely disappointed.  “That’s not how babies are made,” she said.  “Mommy told me that babies are made when two people love each other so much that they kiss with their whole bodies and then that’s where babies come from.”  She looked off to the side, scouring her memory.  “And she said something about gametes.”

“You’re wrong, Aditi,” Robert said while rising to his knees, crossing his arms and wearing a very smug facial expression.  “I know what I’m talking about.  Trust me, I learned it in Biology.”

“I didn’t learn that in Biology,” she said.

“That’s because I’m in a higher Biology book than you,” he replied, a fact that was true, but that didn’t make him any less wrong.  “You need to face the facts.  Mom and Dad are going to have another baby, which means you can’t be a crybaby all the time because they’re already going to have a baby that’s crying and they don’t want _two_ babies crying.”

“I’M NOT A CRYBABY!” Aditi yelled.  “I’m just hungry.”  She dramatically crossed her arms, sat on the floor and poked out her bottom lip.  “I want a grilled cheese sandwich and nobody will make me one.”

Then she hung her head down, and started crying.

 

+

 

Meanwhile, Aditi’s mother was having a meltdown of her own.

“I can’t believe you, Sheldon!” she spat through gritted teeth.  She pushed herself off of him and fell to the bed.

“Excuse me!” he shot back.  “How is this possibly my fault?”

“It’s your fault because you’ve been so inconsistent in enforcing the rules that now she thinks she can barge in our room whenever she pleases.”

Sheldon was defensive.  “If you’ll recall, I said this would be a risky endeavor upon its undertaking, but _you_ insisted she was asleep.”

“She _was_ asleep.”

“Clearly she wasn’t.”

“Well, _you_ insisted you would lock the door!” she said.

Sheldon furrowed his brow, thinking back to the earlier conversation.  “I don’t recall _insisting_ ,” he said.

Amy threw the covers from herself and jumped from the bed.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“To take a shower,” she said, marching into the bathroom.

“What about _that_?” Sheldon asked, pointing to the soldier standing at attention south of the border.

Amy turned around, peeking her head through the crack in the door.  “You should of thought about _that_ when you left the door unlocked,” she said, and slammed the door.

Once in the shower, Amy’s body was overtaken with competing sensations.  Still tingling in her fingers and toes and gut was what lingered from her interrupted romantic interlude.  The steaming hot water that ran over her skin matched the flare of anger she felt at Sheldon’s nonchalance about his role in the matter.  There was a distracting itch on the bottom of her left pinky toe, which seemed to be as fitting a metaphor as she would get for how irritated she was that the risk she took hadn’t panned out.

Also, if she were being completely honest, she was really embarrassed.

As she scrubbed down, however, more rational thoughts prevailed.  Her daughter was only ten years old, and had barely hit the door before she was heading back out.  How much had she really seen, if anything?  Even if she had seen something, had she even known what she was looking at?  The likely answer to both questions was reassuring, and as she stepped out of the shower—pools of water collecting at her feet—she felt significantly better about the whole thing.

So much so, she offered to make Sheldon whatever he wanted for lunch.

 

+

 

Amy—still damp from her shower and clad in her house robe—opened up the fridge and scoured its contents for what could go into a stir-fry.  So far, it was looking like the remains of a butchered zucchini, half a pineapple and a tray of shiitake mushrooms.  As she poked around for other suitable ingredients (cashews!) she heard sniffling.  She stood up and looked beyond the kitchen island, and found Aditi below in the family room, sitting on the couch and wiping tears from her eyes.

Not a good sign.

“What’s the matter, dear?” Amy asked, closing the refrigerator door.  She hoped with all her might Robert was the blame.

“You and Daddy yelled at me,” she answered.

Okay, so not Robert.  Amy sighed.  “I’m sorry we yelled at you,” she said, walking around the island and drawing closer to her daughter, “but you came into our room without permission.”  She took a seat on the couch.  “You know the rules.”

No response.

“Right?” Amy goaded.

Aditi nodded.

Amy pulled a Kleenex from the end table and handed it to Aditi.  “Now dry your eyes, sweetie.  I’m about to make lunch.” She rose, heading back for the kitchen.  “Do you want stir-fry?”

Aditi shook her head.  “I want a grilled cheese sandwich.”

Amy was usually opposed to making various meals for each member of the household, but under the circumstances, she could make an exception.

Damn rule-bending.

“Fine.  One grilled cheese sandwich coming up,” she said, and pulled down a frying pan from its hook above the stove.

Aditi rose from the couch and walked over to the counter, taking a seat on a stool.  She playfully folded a napkin while Amy buttered the bread.

“Did you sleep well?” Amy asked.

Aditi nodded, then looked up.  “Are you going to have a baby?” she asked.

Instant panic shot through Amy, and she froze with the tub of butter in one hand and a knife in the other.  After regaining some composure, she spoke as calmly as she could.

“Why would you ask that, Aditi?”

“Because Robert said that you and Daddy were going to have another baby and so I couldn’t be a crybaby because you were already going to have a baby that was crying.”

_ROBERT!_

“Why does he think we are having a baby?” Amy asked coolly, though still rattled.

“Because he said Daddy stuck his finger in your mouth and now a baby was in your stomach. I told him that’s not where babies come from, but he didn’t believe me.”  She looked off to the side, scouring her memory.  “He also said something about copulation.” 

Amy wasn’t sure of the details, but she knew enough about her children to get the gist of what had played out, and she _swore to God_ that sometimes Robert was too smart for his own good.

“Your father and I are not having another baby,” she answered finally, hopefully putting the matter to rest.

“Good,” Aditi said with a grunt, now trying to force the napkin ring onto her arm as a bracelet.  It didn’t fit.

“Why is that good?” Amy asked.

“Because the sound of babies crying makes me sad.”

Amy nodded.  It was as good a reason as any.  “So,” she said, ready to change the subject, “Tell me about your field trip to the art museum on Friday.”

“Mommy,” Aditi said, now pretending to write on the napkin with the back of a spoon.  “Where _do_ babies come from?”

_This again?_

“Remember, we talked about this before?” Amy said.  _Back when you were seven_ , she thought.

“Yes, I remember,” Aditi said.  “But…” she stopped for a moment, thinking.  She paused so long that Amy turned away from the food she was making and looked at her daughter.  In moments like this, when she was lost in thought and reflective—her tongue poking out from the side of her mouth and her striking eyes fixed on something that seemed very far away—Aditi looked more liked her father than seemed possible.  It stopped Amy’s heart every time.

“But what, Aditi?”

The young girl turned to her mother, her face displaying a solemnity beyond her ten years.  “I’ve heard a lot of different things about it, but none of the reasons sound real.  I mean, they sound a little real, like about cells and stuff like that.  But I always feel like there’s something missing.  Like nobody’s telling me the truth.”

Amy watched her daughter and thought back to something her own mother told her when she’d first given birth.  She and Sheldon had tried to map out a fixed timeline for when they would cross certain milestones with their children: weaning at six months, potty training at 18 months, full literacy by three.  Her mother had peered over her shoulder—perusing the list—and chuckled to herself.  “ _They_ will let you when they are ready for what,” she’d said.  “And it will almost come at a moment when you’re not ready.”

Amy placed the sandwich in the pan, letting it brown, then wiped her hands on a towel and took a seat next to her daughter.

“The truth is…” Amy began.   She sighed.  “The truth can be a little awkward to talk about.”

This shocked Aditi. “Why?”

“Because remember when I told you about girl parts and boy parts and how special and private they are?”

Aditi nodded.

“Well,” Amy continued, “they are so special because they are the parts that make a baby.”

Aditi considered this a moment, the wheels in her mind turning. “I already know,” she said.

It was Amy’s turn to be surprised. “How?” she asked.

“I dunno,” Aditi said with a shrug.  “I just figured it out all by myself.”

“What else have you figured out?” Amy asked.

“Nothing,” Aditi answered.  She resumed fidgeting with spoon in her hand.  “Can _I_ have a baby?” she asked.

“No,” Amy answered.  “Not yet.  But your body will start getting ready for that soon.”  A lot sooner than Amy wanted to think about.  “How about we talk about it… soon?” she added.

Aditi nodded absently, the bulk of her curiosity satisfied.  Amy mentally put, “Google ‘how to explain puberty and sex to a 10-year-old’” on her to-do list.

“Now,” Amy said, hopping from her stool, “let’s teach you how to make your own grilled-cheese sandwich.”

“Yeah?” Aditi said, her face brightening instantly.  She jumped from the stool and walked over to the sink to wash her hands.  “I’m glad.  They are the most scrumptious things in the world.” 

They were buttering slices of toast when Sheldon suddenly appeared—damp and sluggish.

“What have you girls been up to?” he asked, as he passed them en route to the family room.

Amy went to answer, but Aditi cut over her.  Her stomach sank in that span of an instant, anxious as what Aditi might say.  The only person it was harder to talk about sex with than Aditi was Sheldon.

“Mommy’s teaching me how to make grilled cheese sandwiches!” Aditi said excitedly.

Sheldon spun around in his tracks, hurrying back to the kitchen.  “Amy!” he said, aghast, then peered over their shoulders.  “You didn’t mention you were making grilled-cheese sandwiches!”

“Why? Do you want one?” Amy asked.

“Of course,” he said.  “They are the most scrumptious things in the world.”

Amy chuckled at that and when she turned to Aditi, she was nodding delightedly, in full agreement.  Amy shrugged with a smile.  “Fine then; one more grilled cheese sandwich coming right up.”

As she reached for two more slices of bread, Aditi tapped her on the shoulder then leaned into her mother’s ear.

“Don’t worry, Mommy,” she said, a knowing inflection in her voice.  “I would never tell Daddy about our conversation.”

Amy looked down with amusement.  Aditi returned the look.

“I know all about girl talk,” she explained.  “Me and Aunt Penny have it _all the time_.”


	3. The Closed-Caption Revelation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aditi's word-of-the-day app lifts up the family's vocabulary. Well, that was the plan anyway.

Sometimes, Aditi woke up before her alarm clock, and when she did, she liked to check the latest entry in her word of the day app. She'd downloaded it without her parents' permission, and if they had noticed, they hadn't said anything. She figured it must be okay.

Today's word of the day was "lamia," which was "a mythical monster, with the head and torso of a woman and a bottom like the tail of a snake, said to prey on human beings." In a hushed voice, she repeated the word several times to herself before deciding that she didn't like it. It sounded "tongue-y" and felt weird in her mouth. Upon further reflection, however, she thought Robert might like it. He always liked supernatural stuff, and a woman-like serpent was right up his alley. Unlike Aditi, however, he wasn't an early riser; Amy usually had to fight to get him up in the morning, but Aditi figured she could get him up for this.

She rubbed one eye, and then jumped out of bed with her tablet in hand. She focused her bleary, early-morning eyes on the security camera outside of Robert's door, and a second later she was in his room. To her surprise, he was wide awake and hunched over a notebook, scribbling away.

"Good morning," she said, taking several steps forward and stopping just beyond the foot of his bed.

"Mrphrm, DeeDee," he murmured without looking up.

"Guess what the word of the day is?" she asked. She couldn't wait to tell him.

He shrugged. "Asshole."

The provocative word seemed to come from nowhere, but ricocheted off the walls and clanged through the air, finally piercing Aditi's eardrums. Her mind was completely wiped clean of her original purpose for even entering his room at all, and she stood, paralyzed, in utter shock.

"That's a curse word," she said, softly stunned.

Robert lifted an eraser from his nightstand and started erasing just as furiously as he'd been writing before. "I know it is." He brushed eraser dust all over his bed.

"Then why did you say it?" Aditi asked.

"Why not say it?" he replied, turning up his lip with cavalier bravado. "It's just a word."

"But it's a bad word."

"Says who?"

Aditi thought a moment. "Says Grandma," she answered. "She said that you shouldn't say curse words because they're rude. And people who are rude get no food. At least not at her house."

"Well we aren't at her house, are we?"

"No," Aditi said, "but even in the Montessori handbook it says,"—she cleared her throat—"'I will speak without using profanity, slurs, or hurtful words. I will interact with others in a respectful and appropriate way.' Billy Morrison didn't, and he got in trouble for saying…" She paused, waffling between saying the offending epithet and finding an alternative. She whispered as she spoke. "The F-word."

At that, Robert looked up, making steely eye contact with his sister. It was time to get down to brass tacks. "Aditi, you like words, right?"

"Yes, but—"

"And you need to know words to communicate, right?"

"Yeah, but I—"

"Well, then you need to know bad words. When we get big, people are going to be using bad words  _all the time_. But guess what? You're not even going to know what they are talking about and everybody's going to think you're dumb."

"They aren't going to think I'm dumb."

"Yes they are. But they are going to know I'm smart, because I know all the words, even the bad ones."

This was very surprising news to Aditi. "How do you know bad words?"

"Because I  _pay attention_ , DeeDee." He reached under his mattress and pulled out a pink sheet of paper and handed it to his sister.

"What is this?" she said, reaching for the page.

"Remember that web show we watched that bleeped out all the curse words because Mom has the wifi on kiddie block?"

"Yeah."

"Well, if you had been paying attention, all the curse words were still in the closed captioning. I wrote them all down when Mom wasn't looking."

"Oh," Aditi said. With clear reluctance, she perused the profane list in her hands. Something, however, didn't seem quite right. "'Bitch' isn't a curse word," Aditi said.

"Yes it is," Robert said.

"No it isn't."

"Then why was it was bleeped out?"

"I don't know, but I was watching the Westminster Dog Show with Daddy last night. A bitch is female dog. Do you know what a male dog is called?"

Robert squirmed as he struggled to answer. "Of course," he lied.

"Then what is it?" she asked.

"I dunno," he whispered.

"A dog!" she blurted.

"That can't be right," Robert mumbled.

"Well it is," she said, and turned back to the list. "'Dick' isn't a curse word either. A boy in the other class is named Dick. Well his real name is Richard, but everyone calls him Dick for some reason. I don't know why."

"Well 'fag' is a curse word," Robert said, sitting up, "and everyone knows the F-word is the worst curse word of all."

"Fag is the word they used in England for cigarette. It was my word of the day a few weeks ago."

"Ugh," Robert groaned.

Aditi started laughing.

"What's so funny?" he said.

Aditi didn't answer, though, and just fell into a giggle fit.

"Why are you laughing?!" Robert asked.

Aditi caught her breath just long enough to speak. "Because you don't even know what any of these words mean." She collapsed to the bed, clutching her stomach with laughter.

"STOP LAUGHING AT ME, DEEDEE!" Robert yelled, snatching the piece of paper from her hand and ripping it into pieces.

The dull whir of a motor could be heard, and Amy appeared a moment later.

"What are you guys doing awake?" she asked.

Robert and Aditi stared at each other. Then Aditi held up her tablet.

"I was showing Robert the word of the day," she said.

"And what might that be?" Amy asked. She squinted at the screen before her. "Lamia," she said, then mumbled the definition to herself. "Huh. I didn't know that."

"And I know how to say it in Spanish," Aditi said.

"How?"

"Lamia," she said. "I looked it up."

"I guess some translations are easier than others," Amy said with a grin. "You know, your father and I used to have a word of the day years ago. Perhaps we can begin the custom again as a family. Robert, do you think that sounds fun?"

"No," he said, still smarting over his earlier defeat.

"Why not?" Amy asked, almost amused at how adamant he was.

He crossed his arms, balling his face into a frown. "I hate words."

"You  _hate_  words?" she said, approaching where he was. "What do you mean by—"

Just then she stubbed her bare toe on the right leg of the Robert's bed, sending a sharp and intense pain through her toe, up her leg and all through her body. The throbbing digit left her hopping on one foot.

"Felonious… flattery," she said, stifling the urge to use more colorful language.

Aditi looked at her mother curiously. "I know what flattery is," she said, "but what does 'felonious' mean?"

Wincing and gritting her teeth, Amy just barely managed an answer. "How about we make that our word of the day?"

Aditi's face glowed at the prospect. "Awesome!" she cried and, swinging her arms, bolted from the room. Amy could only hope that her daughter had gone off to get ready for school.

Amy turned back to her son. "Alright, Robert," she said while rubbing her toe. "Time to go and brush your teeth." She turned to leave when she saw him sweeping his hand across the bed. "Why is there torn paper everywhere?"

"I told you," he said. "I hate words."

Amy shook her head. "Well, I get that up. You have to get started on brushing your teeth. We're already running late for school."

He didn't move.

Amy was growing impatient, and her toe was starting to throb. "Let's go!"

Wordlessly, he slinked out of bed, padded over the door and walked out into the hall.

When he was gone, Amy stuck her head out behind him, confirming that Aditi and Robert were indeed in the bathroom (15 bunny hops away by some estimations). When she was sure they were, she shut the door, leaned back against the cool wood, and then took a deep breath, eager to release the expletive bubbling in her throat.

"Owwwww," she said, slowly and deeply exhaling each letter. "That  _really_  hurt."

To her surprise, the passage of time seemed to have weakened her capacity for a bit of R-rated release. Proper cursing was almost impossible with two kids running around the house, and she was starting to wonder if she'd loss her ability to let a blue word rip every now and then.

Disappointed, she sat on the edge of the bed and began picking up the slipshod confetti scattered across the bed. As she collected bits of paper in left palm, she casually noticed groups of letters: shi, basta, erfuc, aggo, ocksu. A theme slowly emerged, and Amy didn't like it.

"Dammit, Robert," she said under her breath. "What the hell are you doing with a list of curse words?!"

Fired up and armed with pink proof, she leapt from the bed and started towards the door when something hit her. A large smile crossed her face:

She  _still_  had it.

Strutting like the grown-ass woman she was, she left his room while walking on the toe that, incidentally, felt much,  _much_  better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Lionne for her ace beta job. Thanks to YOU for reading, and leave a review. I'd love to hear from you!


	4. The Affirmation Redundancy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When their ranks are found lacking,Aditi and Robert enlist the troops.

 

Aditi was glad the meeting was officially starting.  Planning a party was a lot of work, and at some point, she and Robert had realized that they would need help.  More importantly, however, they would need the help of people they could trust.  That’s why they decided to meet here.

 “Can you see, Robert?” she asked, propping the small-screened device on the ground of the cobble-stoned patio against a mound of rocks that she and the other boys had gathered from the back yard.

“Affirmative,” he answered.

She gave him a thumbs up.

“What’s ‘affirmative’ mean?” Lenny asked.  He was six years old and, as far as Aditi could tell, he didn’t know anything.  Since they were in his backyard, though, they had to let him come.

“It means yes,” Aditi said.  “If you want to say no, you have to say ‘negative.’”

“Why can’t I just say ‘no?’?” Lenny asked.  No matter what he said, it had a whiny cadence to it.  Also, he was usually sucking on a lollipop, which made his lips an ever-changing array of colors. Today, they were orange.

“Because this is a secret club meeting,” Aditi explained.  “You can’t say ‘yes’ or ‘no’ in a secret club meeting.  It’s not fancy enough.”

“Duh,” Joel Wolowitz muttered. He was working on a cherry Popsicle.

“Don’t say ‘duh,’” Adam, the other Wolowitz boy, commanded his brother.  “You didn’t know until I told you.”

“Nuh uh,” Joel said, outraged. “I’m the one that told you!”

“No you weren’t!” Adam screamed.

“Yes I was!” Joel yelled back.

“No you weren’t!”

“Yes I was!”

“No you weren’t!”

“Yes I was!”

“GUYS!” Robert hollered.  Everyone turned their attention to the little screen.  “We aren’t meeting here to squabble and fight.  We’re here to work. So everybody sit down and shut up!”  The assembled group all sat down—cross-legged—and crowded around Robert’s digital doppelganger.

Lenny pulled the sucker from him mouth.  “What does ‘squabble’ mean?” he asked.

Aditi sighed.  “It means argue.”

“Duh,” Joel whispered.  Adam shot him a look of aggravation. “What?” Joel asked.

Moving on, Robert cleared his throat loudly and began to speak.  “Ye are gathered here today to commence with the proceedings of the ad hoc anniversary planning committee heretofore referred to as Operation Lady and the Tramp,” he said.  “Aditi Fowler-Cooper will be leading us in roll call.  When your name is called, say ‘Aye.’”

“What does ‘aye’ mean?” Lenny asked.

“God, Lenny!” Aditi said.  “It means yes.”

“But, but, but,” he stammered, “I thought ‘ _affirmative’_ meant yes.”

“’Aye’ means yes, too.”

“Then why can’t we say ‘aye’ all the time?”

“Because we can’t.”  She lifted a piece of paper and began to call the first name.  “Jo—”

“When you say my name, I’m going to say affirmative,” Lenny said with mischievous glee.

“You can’t say affirmative,” Aditi said, truly annoyed.  “You have to say aye.”

“I can if it I want to,” Lenny replied, and that whiny cadence took on a taunting edge.

“No you can’t,” Aditi insisted, “and stop asking so many questions.”

“I can do whatever I want,” Lenny said. “This is my house.”

“This isn’t your house,” Aditi said. “It’s Uncle Leonard’s and Aunt Penny’s house.”

“It’s my house, too,” he said.

“You still have to play by the rules.”

Lenny looked at her, his forehead tilted forward, his bottom lip poked out and the lollipop stick dangling from his mouth like a forsaken cigarette.

“I can do whatever I want!” he yelled.

“No you can’t.”

“Yes I can.”

Aditi pursed her lips and bobbed her head from one side to the other.  “Well, if you don’t play by the rules than you can’t play at all.”

Lenny didn’t like this news one bit.  “You’re mean!” he yelled.

“No I’m not,” Aditi said.

“Yes you are,” he said and stood up.  “I’m telling.” He marched off.

“Wait, wait, wait!” Robert called after him, but Lenny stormed on, disappearing behind the sliding glass doors.  There was a protracted moment of silence once he was gone.  “Now we’re going to get in trouble,” Robert finally said.

“You’re already in trouble,” Aditi reminded him. “You’re grounded.  That’s why we have to talk to you on video.”

“Who cares if he’s gone,” Joel said, and slurped the last of his Popsicle.  “Now we can get some business done.”

“Fine,” Aditi said, not totally calmed, but hoping he was right. She lifted the paper in the most official way she could muster and began to read.  “Joel Wolowitz.”

“Aye.”

“Adam Wolowitz.”

“Aye.”

“Robert Fowler-Cooper.”

“Aye.”

“Aditi Fowler-Cooper.”  She paused with a formal air.  “Ay.”

“Fine,” Robert said.  “Now, first order of business: brainstorming. I was thinking—”

“What about Lenny?” Adam asked.

“What about him?” Robert replied.

“Aditi didn’t call his name.”

“But he’s not here,” Joel said, bent over and carving into his Popsicle stick with a rock.  “Duh.”

“Yeah, but she should still have called his name,” Adam explained.  “That’s only fair.”

All heads turned to Robert, their de factor leader, as he considered the matter for a moment.  “Makes sense,” he said.  He turned to his sister. “DeeDee, please start the roll call over again.”

“Okay,” she said.  Lifting the paper once more, she began again. “Joel Wolowitz.”

“Aye.”

“Adam Wolowitz.”

“Aye.”

“Robert Fowler-Cooper.”

“Aye.”

“Aditi Fowler-Cooper.  Ay.”  She took a breath.  “Leonard Hofstadter, Jr.”

As predicted, there was no response.

Aditi tried again.  “Leonard Hofstadter, Jr.”

Adam squeaked an answer out of the side of his mouth. “Negative,” he peeped.

“The opposite of ‘aye’ is ‘nay,” Joel said. “Duh.”

“I already knew that,” Adam shot back. “I just wanted to know if you knew.”

“Uh uh,” Joel said.  “You didn’t’ know.”

“Yes I did,” Adam shouted.

“No you didn’t!”

“Yes, I did.”

“No you didn’t!”

“Yes, I did.”

“No you _didn’t_!”

“Yes, I _did_.”

“GUYS!” Robert yelled. “We need to—”

Just then, all heads turned at the dull sound of the double glass sliding door gliding open one again.  Aditi practically cowered in panic.  Unlike her parents, who held protracted trials to determine which of the playmates were the guilty party and/or parties, Penny’s idea of conflict resolution was to demand that everyone get along or go home.

The sound stopped and Lenny walked out by himself.  He was wiping tears from his eyes and sucking on a different lollipop.  This one was blue.  He pulled the doors closed, shuffled over to where he had been seated previously, and plopped to the ground, his shoulders drooping.

“Are we in trouble?” Aditi asked.

“No,” Lenny said. “Mom told me not to be a tattletale and that if I came in the house one more time I had to stay in.”

No one said anything, but collective relief settled on the crowd.

“Now,” Robert said, resuming, “without further ado let’s begin with a brainstorming session.  Who has some ideas as far as a theme?“

At long last, Aditi would get to share her thoughts.  She knew it was wrong to brag, but she had tons of good ideas about decorations (streamers and balloons and a piñata) and food (hamburgers, and cupcakes and spaghetti with hotdogs cut up in it) and the guest list (both grandmas, and Aunt Missy and that lady at the bank that gives them free suckers) and what colors everyone should wear (purple and yellow polka dots).  She had left the list at home in her bedroom, but it didn’t matter—she had it all memorized in her brain.

“I was thinking about a theme with fireworks,” she said. “We could get the pretty conf—”

“I didn’t get to say ‘aye,’” Lenny whined.  This time, his whining was accompanied by little gasps that followed a bout of crying.

“What?” Robert asked.

“I didn’t get to say ‘aye,’” he repeated.

“We already did roll call,” Robert explained.  “You weren’t here.  So anyway, DeeDee, you were saying that—“

“But I wanted to say ‘aye.’”

“Fine,” Robert said with a sigh.  “DeeDee, start roll call again.”

“Again!”  Now she was whining.  “But why?”

“Because Lenny didn’t get to say ‘aye.’”

“But he wasn’t here,” she groaned.  Her patience had worn thin and she was utterly frustrated.  She crossed her arms.  “This isn’t fun anymore,” she said.  “I have so many great ideas but I can’t say any of them because we keep doing the roll call over and over and over and over again.”

Robert shifted his eyes.  “Can I talk to you a second, DeeDee?” he said. “In _private_?”

She sighed, then lifted the small-screened device and took several paces out into the yard.  Now that she wasn’t in the shade, she realized how hot it was.

“I know Lenny gets on your nerves sometimes.”

“ _Sometimes!_ ” she repeated.

“But you have to understand _strategy_ ,” he said.

This was a new thought for her. “What strategy?”

“Stealth is of utmost importance with this operation, and we need to meet here or this entire endeavor could turn into a huge fiasco.”

“Don’t I know it,” Aditi said.  She shuddered as she thought back to the time their mom had almost found their secret budget Venn diagram. It had been a _very_ close call.

“Okay,” Robert said. “So, I’m asking you to do this for Mom and Dad.  Just do the roll call one more time.”

She thought about the big smile that would be on her parents’ faces as they walked through the door, streamers and candy and grownup stuff everywhere.  Calling the roll for a third time was a small price to pay for a big party that would make them so happy.

“Fine,” she said.  “I’ll do it.  For Mommy and Daddy.”

“Great,” Robert said.  “Let’s go back.”

“Were you talking about me?” Joel asked, scowling, upon her return.

“No,” Aditi said as she lowered herself to the ground.

“Toldja,” Adam said.

Aditi placed “Robert” back on the pile of rocks.

“After some deliberation—“

“Discussion,” Aditi clarified before Lenny even had a chance to ask.

“—DeeDee and I decided that we will call the roll for a third and last time before proceeding directly to more urgent matters.”

Everyone nodded, sucked and carved.

“DeeDee?”

Smiling once again, she cleared her throat, lifted the paper and began to read.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, thanks for reading and reviewing. Lio worked her beta magic, so all errors are mine.


End file.
